


One Thousand Paper Cranes

by fangirlingforeverz, homebound



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, F/M, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Oneshot Kaneki Ken, Sex, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-03-21 02:17:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13731018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirlingforeverz/pseuds/fangirlingforeverz, https://archiveofourown.org/users/homebound/pseuds/homebound
Summary: Touka doesn’t answer Ken right away, instead choosing to stare out into the park. Her lips pursed together. “My teacher told me about something,” she says, “She said that if you fold one thousand of these cranes, you can make a wish – for anything. Even if it’s a really big wish!”(Altenate Universe, Human AU, Oneshot!Kaneki/Touka).





	One Thousand Paper Cranes

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted to tumblr, but people wanted to see this here as well, so here it is! We have a lot of other fics from tumblr to add here, as well. We might do so...eventually. Leave a comment if you enjoy the fic!

Ken first meets Kirishima Touka in the spring.

 

It’s a warm day -- the kind of day where the weather was nice enough to leave his two sizes too big jacket in his closet and go out in only a t-shirt and a pair of khaki shorts, but not so oppressively hot that he wanted to retreat back into the small, almost claustrophobic apartment that he shared with his mother. He often spent days alone in there, shut away inside of his father’s old study, reading. There was nothing else to do with his mother either working or sleeping -- and to be honest, sometimes it was better to stay out of her way.

 

She was busy, after all -- and he was an “annoyance,” as she called it.

 

Ken often tried to stay away from his mother because of this.

  
He didn’t want to burden her -- not when she was already so stressed. She was already working so hard -- for him, and his aunt. It was better for him to make himself small -- to not speak as much, to not be a bother to her. Especially when she was doing so much. She was hurting herself to help others, and there was nothing better than that, right?

 

So, he stays in his father’s room -- and he goes out as much as he can, even though he craved his mother’s attention and affection -- because it was better to do that than to want too much. He couldn’t but his needs before others. That was troublesome.

 

It was bad.

 

And the last thing he wanted was to be a bad son.

 

He walks to a nearby park -- and sits beneath the shade of a tall tree, carrying a book from his father’s study underneath his arm. He leans against the trunk and slides down into the warm grass. It was still early so the grass was still damp with morning dew, cooling his legs as he opens his book and begins to read out loud, in a clear and steady voice. He didn’t get to do this at home because the walls were thin and Mama would always complain if he was too noisy. It was nice not having to whisper.

 

“What are you doing?”  
  
He nearly jumps out of his skin when he hears the light voice of a young girl. Looking up, he sees a girl who seems to be around his age. She had large violet eyes, and dark hair that was  held back by two bunny hair clips. She was wearing a blue dress that revealed her knees, which had scraps on them, like she had just gotten into some kind of a fight. She was standing over him -- and he nearly jumps out of his skin as he stares up at her.

 

“U-Uh?!”

 

She was talking to him -- ? No one spoke to him except Hide! Especially not girls --

 

“Hello?” The girl asks, waving her hand in front of his face. “Did you hear me?!”

 

He flinches, before nodding, clutching his book to his chest. “Y-Yes,” he stutters. “I -- I’m reading!”

 

“Sounds boring,” the girl says, before plopping down beside him, paying no mind to his personal space, or the fact that her arm was brushing his. “I can sit here, right?” She asks as she crosses her legs. It doesn’t seem like a very girl like way to sit, but he keeps that comment to himself, simply watching her. He flushes and nods, unable to speak or say much of anything as he watches her reach into her pocket before pulling out a blank sheet of white paper. Then, the girl begins to fold it into some kind of animal like shape.

 

He squints -- it was a bird.

 

“It’s a crane,” the girl says, unprompted. He’s startled at being addressed so suddenly, but she looks at him, curious. “You looked like you wanted to ask,” she explains.

 

It was almost like -- she wanted to talk to him -- or she expected him to talk, maybe?

 

“Why --,” he licks his lips, trying to calm him nerves, “Why are you folding cranes?”

 

She doesn’t answer him right away, instead choosing to stare out into the park. Her lips pursed together. “My teacher told me about something,” she says, “She said that if you fold one thousand of these cranes, you can make a wish -- for anything. Even if it’s a really big wish.”

 

That sounded silly.

 

“That doesn’t sound real,” he blurts out, before snapping his mouth closed. That was an unnecessary comment. He should’ve kept it to himself. Though, to his surprise, the girl doesn’t get mad. In fact, she seems more solemn. “Yeah -- I know,” she murmurs. “My mom is just really sick -- so I thought -- maybe it could help.”

 

“Maybe.”

 

Instantly, he feels terrible for even saying something so thoughtless. His mother would’ve scolded him for it, too.

 

“Um,” Ken says, licking his dry lips. “Do you want some help?”

 

When she turns to him, she’s smiling -- revealing a gap in her tooth from where she must’ve just lost one. It’s one of the most beautiful smiles he’s ever seen on anyone before, and for a moment, the wind is knocked out of him. It’s almost like she’s _shining._

 

“Sure!”

 

\--

 

He learns her name is Kirishima Touka.

 

She’s eight years old -- and was a little younger than him since he was 11.

 

She has short hair, tied into pigtails that rest low at her nape. She was wearing faded shorts and an old t-shirt. The two of them play around the park for a long time, it was the most fun he’s ever had.

 

Touka-chan as he has taken to calling her was brash and fun to play with. She dug her hands in dirt and in the sand, prying out worms to scare him with and chasing him faster than anyone he’s ever met when they play tag. She was impressed with his knowledge of hiding spots and gave him another beaming smile when he shared his ice cream with her.

 

All in all it’s a great day and even as he walks back home to is depressing house, he can do so with a smile on his face because Touka-chan asked to meet at the park again tomorrow to play tag.

 

Ken had made sure to scrub his hands clean and beat the dust off of his clothes before he walked in through the door. His mother was worn out, sitting on their ratty couch with a somber look on her face when he places his shoes away.

 

He made sure to walk as gently as possible and greet his mother with a soft voice so as to not anger her. She often said that she didn’t like being disturbed after coming home from work and that Ken was old enough now to make his own dinner and put himself to bed.

 

Her stern gaze falls on him and with a soft voice, she calls him over, having him sit next to her on the couch as she asked him about his day. Ken was hesitant at first, unable to gauge whether Mother really wanted to know or if she was just trying to find if he got into any trouble.

 

“I...made a new friend today,” He says softly. “She played tag with me.”

 

“She?” His mother raises a brow. “What’s her name?”

 

He rubs at his chin. “U-Um, Touka-chan. She t-taught me how to fold paper cranes too...there’s a myth that if you fold a thousand of them, they’ll grant your wish.” His words pick up pace, eyes alight as he recounts his whole day to her. It was like when he had been little and Mother didn’t work too much, was careful with her affection and her words, when it felt like she actually cared.

 

It was -- like that again.

 

“Really?” His mother asks, “That sounds like a nice idea,” then with a soft laugh she adds, “Maybe I’ll try it.”

 

Ken gives a lopsided smile, coming out of that self imposed cage he’s made for himself to keep from spoiling Mother’s mood all these years. “I-It’s kind of silly but Touka-chan is young, she’s still in primary school so I didn’t want to be rude.”

 

“How sweet,” She reaches over, pinching his cheek, not at all like those times when they hurt, or they bruised to a plum shade that had everyone asking questions or whispering while they looked at him. “Let’s have dinner outside today, okay?”

 

His heart leaps. “O-Okay!”

 

\--

 

This must’ve been one of his mother’s good days.

 

They were rare these days -- she was usually quiet and withdrawn, prone to bouts of violent anger if disturbed. She was often like a stranger --  a person who he didn’t recognize, but shared the same, the same air as him. But today was different. Today -- she feels like Mama. They eat outside on the apartment terrace. His mother smiles, and continues to ask him about Touka, and he found it impossible to silence himself once he had begun. He hadn’t been this excited since the day that he had first met Hide. “You sound quite smitten.”  
  
His cheeks redden. “I-It’s not like that!” He cries, burying his face in his hands in order to hide his flush. His mother laughs gently, before reaching over the small table that they sat at in order to ruffle his hair.  
  
He flinches -- though he doesn’t mean to, which makes her draw her hand back quickly, as though stung. Her smile fades slightly, and Ken stares down at his hands, feeling horribly. He shouldn’t have done that. Mama was acting like herself again -- there was no reason to be scared!

 

He had hurt her feelings.

 

His mother doesn’t comment on his reaction, though -- she looks at her hand, and then back at him before smiling. “I’m -- glad that you’re making more friends,” she says softly. Then, she takes his hand, which was resting on the table and squeezes it reassuringly. He relaxes when he sees her expression. There wasn’t any anger there.

 

Just sadness.  
  
“You have to remember to treat your friends well,” she says, “All of them are very important. Always keep them close to you,” she sounds imploring, as though she’s begging him. Like she’s trying to import some kind of secret, important knowledge. Ken nods, though he doesn’t understand. “I always do that, Mama,” he says, puzzled.

 

His mother smiles -- and when he looks at her, there’s a watery sheen in her eyes, as though she’s holding back tears.

 

“I’m glad.”

 

\--

 

The following morning, Mama doesn’t come to wake him up from school.

 

It wasn’t all that strange -- she often was too tired to wake him up in the morning. He was used to waking up and making breakfast for himself before heading out to school. And so, that’s what he does. He makes a small omelette, and rice -- just like his mother had shown him in one of her better moods. He makes another plate for his mother, wrapping it in paper towel and setting it on the counter.

 

He doesn’t knock on the door to wake her. Mama always hated when he did that. He leaves for school without a word to her, hoping that she would be awake when he gets home.

 

The day at school passes by like any other. Hide comments on him being less somber than usual at lunch time. Ken doesn’t give a real explanation though. Some part of him was paranoid that if he spoke too fast about things being better, they would eventually revert back to the same state as before.

 

Yesterday, after a long time, mama felt like mama again.

 

“I guess I got enough sleep,” he says, rubbing his chin and looking away.

 

Hide’s eyes narrow suspiciously but he doesn’t pursue the matter after that. He figured that when the time came, Ken would tell him.

 

The two finish their respective school days and take the long trek home. It was a quiet sort of afternoon, the kind Ken looked forward to after long and noisy days of school. His and Hide’s path fork fast and Ken feels a little guilty for hiding the truth.

 

“H-Hey! Um I actually didn’t tell you this before but - I-I made a new friend.”

 

Hide brightens immediately. He knew it had to be something good. “My boy is finally growing up!” He clasps his arm around his shoulder. He leans in conspiratorially, “Is it a girl?”

 

Ken looks ready to implode, stuttering over his words to explain that while she is a girl, it was nothing like that —

 

Hide rolls his eyes, laughing. “Sure, sure, you’re never this happy about me!” He was obviously kidding but it was always so nice to mess with Ken.

 

The darker haired boy frowns, “It’s nothing like that — I’ll introduce you to her, the next time we go to the park? She’s usually there!”

 

Hide smiles, clasping his palms down on his shoulders assuringly. “Yo, chill out! I know, I was just kidding, I’m glad we’re gonna go from two to three now!” Then his smile turns devilish, “Is she cute? I bet she is if you’re blushing like that!”

 

Ken shoved him playfully, “it’s nothing like that! I told you already! Besides she’s younger than us! So be nice to her!”

 

Hide sighs, “Yeah, yeah! I’m gonna head out now, tell me when you wanna go to the park!” With another wave, the two part ways and Ken enjoys the rest of his walk alone.

 

—

 

His house is quiet when he enters. “Mama?” He calls out, placing his shoes in the rack and walking further into the house. His eyes fall on the plate he had left for his mother.

 

It was still untouched.

 

 _That’s not like her,_ he thinks. She would definitely be up by now, even if it was her day off. Was she sick?

 

He stands before her door, quiet as a mouse. He should knock now, shouldn’t he? He was worried.

 

“Mama?” He knocks softly, “Are you awake?”

 

No reply.

 

“Mom,” his voice had gone tense, eyes looking to the knob. “I’m coming in, okay?”

 

He’ll deal with the consequence as it comes then, even if Mama was angry at him for interrupting her sleep. “Ma—!”

 

The door creaks open, a slight nudge from his hand and he wished he hadn’t.

 

There, hanging from a crude knot tied around her neck, she stayed hanging. It was bizarre, like his mind couldn’t comprehend the scene. She had used one of the white sheets they used in the bedding. The same kind she had stressed to wash all those years they’ve owned them.

 

But here she was now, tying it to the dusty ceiling fan and — hanging from it.

 

It’s not until his voice has gone hoarse and raw -- and he hears banging on the apartment door from the neighbors that he realizes that he’s been screaming.

 

\--

 

It’s hard for him to recall the next few days.

 

His neighbors had called the police once they had seen his mother’s body, and his aunt had been called in to identify his mother’s body and take care of the necessary funeral arrangements. She had also been called to care for him as she was the only next of kin that both he and his mother had.

 

She wasn’t happy about it.

 

“How could she do this!” She can hear the woman complaining loudly from the living area. Her apartment was much more lavish than the one he had lived in with his mother. They even had a guest bedroom, that he was ordered to stay in -- and not leave. It was strange, considering that his mother had worked so hard in order to help his aunt with her bills, though the way that she lived told an entirely different tale. “All of this money! Her life insurance doesn’t even want to give anything out because she killed herself! How am I supposed to afford this? Or her goddamn _brat?_ ”

 

The days pass slowly, with him only mildly mentally present enough to internalize any of these words or the words of others -- but there is only one thing that he is certain of.

 

There is no place for him here.

 

Was there a place for him anywhere?

 

_Probably not._

 

\--

 

His aunt treats him very much like a burden the entire time that he lives with her. She yells at him, and hits him very much like his mother had when she was angry. Though, unlike living with his mother, there were no good times. There was no lightness or brevity to ever balance out the intense darkness.

 

She beat him for scoring higher than her son on exams -- for reading too much -- for being too nosy. She beat him for looking too much like “that fucking sister of hers,” or eating too much. She also didn’t like it when he stayed around -- and he was never allowed to eat with the rest of her family, like his cousin or her mousy husband.

 

After two weeks, she decides that it’s time for him to go back to school, even when the very idea of going back makes him fill sick. He still missed his mother -- he missed their old apartment, and all of the books in his father’s study that his aunt refused to let him bring, complaining of there not being enough space. There was nothing in the guest bedroom aside from his small twin sized bed, and a small end table -- and yet, “space” was an issue.

 

 _The issue isn’t the space,_ his mind whispers. _The issue is_ **_you_ ** _. Why do you think Mama killed herself?_

 

Oh. Right.

 

“And don’t tell anyone what she did,” his aunt Nanoka, warns before he leaves for school. “Tell everyone that it was overwork? Do you understand?”

 

Her stare is piercing and he forces a pained smile. “Of course, Aunt Nanoka,” he says sweetly -- and then, he leaves, the smile on his face was incredibly painful to keep up, but he does.

 

When Hide asks him about his mother’s death, he doesn’t even hesitate to answer that it was “over work.” He smiles, rubbing his chin as he tells his friend not to worry about him. “My aunt is taking good care of me,” he says with a bright laugh. “She’s so nice -- so I’m doing okay!” The look on Hide’s face tells him that he doesn’t believe him, but luckily, his friend doesn’t press the issue.

 

Instead, he tells him that they should go play later after school.

 

“That sounds great,” Ken says with a great grin.

 

It was a good thing that Hide never pushed.

 

\--

 

In his spare time, he finds himself folding the paper cranes, until at least 20 sat on the floor within his room. He’s not sure why he does so -- it’s just something to do, he supposes, just to take up time. He places the cranes that he’s folded on his desk before wondering if he should give them to Touka. He hadn’t seen her again since that day. It had already been a month since then -- since his mother had died, and yet, the idea of folding the cranes sticks with him.

 

He’s up to his 50th crane when he sees her again. He takes the chance of his aunt and his family being away for the day as a chance to go to the park. He had retrieved his Father’s book and placed them under his bed. His aunt hadn’t figured it out yet and hopefully as time went on, she never does.

 

Touka runs up to him when she spots him under a tree. Her short hair was in two pigtails today, her jeans shorts looked brand new and she had bandaids on her knees and her shirt looked faded and several sizes too big for her.

 

“Yo!” She plops down next to him. “Haven’t seen you in so long, what have you been up to?”

 

He places a folded crane in her palms, he had drawn a rabbit in the corner.

 

She beams, “thanks! I don’t need cranes anymore though! My mom’s all better now!”

 

He’s got an anguished look in his eyes before it fades to a bright and grateful smile. Young as she was, she knew that something was — wrong.

 

“That’s really great, Touka-chan!” He exclaims, she gives a relieved smile. She’d been worried for so long, she hadn’t even been able to come to the park too much either.

 

“Since my mom got better, you should come over for dinner.” She had told her brother and Ayato all about her park friend. She’d even told her mom once she’d come home.

 

He rubs his chin uncomfortably, “S-Sure,” then a pause. “I-I Live with my aunt now.”

 

“Really?” Touka asks, head tilting to the side. “Why’s that?”

 

Her question is asked so innocently, that Ken is unable to tell her the truth. Though, these days, it was impossible to tell anyone the truth. It feels as though he’s been stabbed in the chest -- again and again. That’s how it’s felt ever since he had walked into his mother’s bedroom that day. There’s a kind of heavy, lead like tiredness that has set into his bones, one that he can’t seem to shake.

 

No one needed to see that, though.

 

“My mom passed away,” he murmurs, “From overwork,” and then he smiles, even though it’s painful. Touka’s eyes are wide as she seems to slowly process what he was saying to her. He continues smiling, even though his face is hurting, as he looks down at his hands. Of course -- it wasn’t like he upset that her mother had managed to survive, but for awhile, it had felt as though Touka might’ve been the only person who could have understood what he felt, even a little bit. But, she didn’t.

 

Touka had a mother and father -- just like Hide did -- and just like everyone else. It was only him that was all alone.

 

Even his mother had killed herself to get away from him --

 

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, clasping her hands together. Gently, she grabs his hand and squeezes it, causing something in his chest to tremble. “It’s okay,” he lies, keeping his voice as cheerful as he could. “My aunt’s been really nice to me --,” he repeats the same lie that he’s said to everyone. He had thought that if he lied enough, it would actually become true. Or -- he would at least be able to fool himself.

 

“I’m okay!”

 

The younger girl in front of him blinks. “If you’re happy, then why do your eyes look sad?”

 

Her question freezes him as he stares at her -- he opens his mouth, trying to come up with something to say, but nothing comes out.

 

Slowly, she takes a step forward and hugs him. He tenses, and then gasps as warmth encircles him. She was shorter than him, being a few years younger, but somehow, he feels completely enveloped by her as she rests her cheek against his shoulder. “It’s okay to be sad,” Touka says, as though she were scolding him. “You don’t have to pretend that you’re not. That’s what my Mommy always says, anyway.”

 

Unsure how else to answer, he returns the hug, slowly.

 

When was the last time anyone had shown him kindness like this? Even his mother hadn’t been one for much physical affection.

 

He closes his eyes, squeezing them shut.

 

“Okay.”

 

It’s then -- that he realizes that keeping anything from Touka would be _difficult._

 

\--

 

It’s hard to keep things from Touka, after that. She wasn’t like Hide, in that she never pretended to not know that something was wrong -- nor was she the type to leave something alone until he was ready to speak about it (which was usually never). He gets better at staying away from her when his moods were really dark because of that -- but Touka was determined to stay in his life, no matter how often he tried to withdraw himself over the years.

 

Even with the two of them going to different schools, and growing older -- he never falls out of contact with her.

 

He changes over the years -- the darkness and anger that was inside of him bubbling until it felt as though it were clawing at his insides. He moves out of his aunt’s house as soon as he could -- as soon as he turned 18, and chose not to go to college. He had no real idea what to do with his life, nor did he have any real direction. The world had taken on a grey hue, no matter what he did to try to shake it.

 

And he did _try._

 

They’re all distractions -- like the women that he starts fucking when he’s old enough. Sex was a good way to not think. It was a great way to sink all of his troubles into another warm body -- at least until it was older. When that doesn’t work, he finds himself starting fights -- pounding out all of his aggression and frustration into the fuckers who were unlucky enough to cross paths with him.

 

He gets taller, bigger, and stronger. He grows mouthier, but none of that ever seemed to _help._

 

He still gets the same nightmares -- of walking into his mother’s bedroom. He still sees her hanging there. There were bruises around her throat and it had been scratched practically raw. The blood on her fingertips had told him everything that he needed to know. She had struggled and suffered before finally succumbing to her fate.

 

All of that pain had been better than staying alive for his sake.

 

Though, as time went on, he found that he couldn’t blame her.

 

“You’ve got to stop this, man,” Hide had said after he nearly gets arrested for pounding in the face of some man who had shoved past him on the street. “This isn’t like you!”

 

It wasn’t?

 

What _was_ he even like? Ken didn’t know -- he often behaved in the way that suited others the best. What would make someone the happiest? What could he see to make people stay around him so that the dark didn’t start to close in again? That’s the only thing that Ken knew about himself.

 

 _That_ was it.

 

\--

 

Touka awakes with a start, her heart hammering in her chest as she tries to recollect the nightmare she’s just experienced. Through certain reminders she’s able to calm herself down. Usually that entailed flipping through her phone and reading through the messages Yoriko had sent her and the sleepy texts from Kaneki that made no sense.

 

 _Stupid._ She thinks with a smile.

 

 _Are you going to work today?_ She texts. _Meet me after school for lunch?_

 

Text bubbles pop up immediately.

 

_Come to Anteiku. I’ll make you that rabbit latte._

 

She replies, _But are you having lunch with me? No point if I sit around and eat while you chase skirts and “work.”_

 

His reply is instantaneous.

 

_I do not chase skirts. Skirts chase me and I bless them with my presence. And to answer your question, yes, I’ll talk to the manager and take my break when you get there._

 

She rolls her eyes. Well it was better than nothing, she would have to hunt him down on a day off so he would have to spend the whole day with her.

 

With her mind a little bit more at ease, she pulls herself out of bed and goes about her morning routine, placing her pencil case and phone in her bag as she walked down the stairs to see the rest of her family already there. Ayato was huddled over a plate of pancakes while their mom teased him about something. Arata places another mouth watering stack of pancakes on a plate and get uncle fed the family bird with pellets.

 

It’s a loud and bustling household but it was one Touka would not be able to live without.

 

“Papa! I want an omelet!” She yells, taking a seat next the table’s end, sneaking a forkful of pancake from Ayato’s plate. He doesn’t take too well to that, looking very annoyed through his shaggy self cut bangs.

 

“Get y-your own —“ his voice cracks and everyone in the room stops to holler about it.

 

“I hate you all!” He exclaims, dramatically, like he did everything else. But it seemed he didn’t hate seconds on the pancake enough to leave.

 

Her father smiles, ruffling her hair and placing an omelet down in front of her, cheerfully chatting to her mother about something while her uncle ate by the kitchen door.

 

It’s like every typical morning.

 

She bids her parents goodbye and gives her uncle a hug before catching a bus to her school. She was a senior now. So she had to get serious with her studies, which meant heading to the library twice a week for supplemental classes, signing up for cram school and chasing down teachers for letters of recommendation.

 

There’s a long week ahead of her but today she wants to focus on her lunch plans with Ken and her evening plans with Yoriko and put her mind at ease.

 

Touka meets up with Ken at anteiku after school, as she usually did.

 

True to his word, he had a bunny latte and a sweet strawberry cake waiting for her. She grins before bowing dramatically. “Thank you!” She cries out, causing Ken to roll his eyes as he set the cake and latte in front of her. He had been working at anteiku for a year at Touka’s insistence that he needed a job if he didn’t want to be a complete bum. It was a nice enough place. Ken didn’t feel pressured here, and making coffee and taking orders was almost relaxing. It kept him preoccupied and from thinking too much.

 

About his life.

 

And how worthless it was.

 

“You’re the best!” She says before she digs in.

 

Ken smirks as he takes a seat across from her at the booth. “I’m taking my break!” He calls to the manager as he takes off his apron and rolls the sleeves of his shirt up at the elbow. He finds himself chuckling at the blissful look on Touka’s face. She was smiling brightly, flushed as she takes a large bite of her cake. Sweets always had that effect on her -- making her starry eyed. It was one of the things on that constantly growing list of behaviors of hers that made her absolutely adorable.

 

He stomps down immediately on that train of thought. Thinking like that was dangerous.

 

Instead, he teases her.

 

“Don’t inhale it,” he says, “How are you ever going to get a boyfriend when you eat like that -- _OW_ \-- !!”

 

“Shut the hell up,” She pulls her foot back to her side of the table, seemingly satisfied with kicking him. Fuck, that hurt! “You’re the last one that I need telling me that. Have you ever even had a relationship?”

 

“No, but neither have you.”

 

“Better then fucking the entire town!”

 

“You should try it out -- it might help your attitude,” he falls into their banter easily. Teasing her was good -- it helped him not think about the silly crush that he had been nursing for over ten years now. The same crush that sleeping around with different women hadn’t managed to cure. It wouldn’t be fair to bring her anywhere close to his messed up life. Touka was going places -- and he wasn’t going anywhere that wasn’t six feet buried beneath the surface.

 

He had already made that decision.

 

“You’re gross,” she complains before she rolls her eyes. Then, she grins at him before reaching into her backpack to pull out an entrance exam prep book.

 

“I knew that I was about to be used.”

 

“Don’t be like that,” she scolds, “I fucking suck at the essay portion of this exam. I keep failing -- and you’re fantastic with this stuff.” He makes a show of taking out his phone, as though it had vibrated. “Sorry -- Hairu-chan just texted me -- she said that she wants to have phone sex --”

 

She kicks him underneath the table again, “Be serious,” she says, lips thinning. “You should be taking this exam too, you know --”

 

There she goes again. Trying to encourage him to take his life seriously.

 

Why did she always do that?

 

“Nah, I’m too old now,” he shrugs, “Besides, that school stuff isn’t for me.”  
  
“Didn’t I used to tease you for being a nerd?!”

 

“That was the old me! The _virgin_ me.”

 

She groans loudly. “It’s like talking to a wall dealing with you these days,” she grumbles, snatching the book back from his side of the booth. “What’s with you? It’s like --,” she pauses, eyes searching, as though trying to find the reason for his personal failures, as though the evidence were somehow etched onto his skin. He didn’t like it when she got like this. She was perceptive -- and it would do no good for Touka to see underneath his mask.

 

“This is boring,” he says, standing up, much to her ire. “Hey!”

 

“My break’s over,” and he doesn’t spare her another glance even as she yells for him to come back before he disappears behind the counter, and then behind the door leading to the breakroom. Luckily, she doesn’t follow him. She was probably pissed as well. Good -- if she was angry then maybe she would finally leave him alone and stop making him feel guilty every single time that he wanted to die.

 

\--

 

When he’s home, he takes off his vest and gathers several sheets of paper. Then, he begins to fold one into a crane.

 

This was something that he still did from time to time. It was calming and methodical -- something that Touka had given him, that perhaps she hadn’t even realized had been so substantial. He wonders if she even remembers that she was the one who had even shown him how to do this.

 

_790….791....792..._

 

He keeps track of all of the cranes that he’s made over the years. It was sort of like a mental tally. He doesn’t fold everyday, and the frequency at which he makes the cranes varies from time to time. It had been something that he had done once to help Touka, thinking that they were in similar situations -- and now it was just habit.

 

Though, he supposed that he _did_ have a goal in mind.

 

There was a bridge near his apartment.

 

It was a large suspension bridge, towering over a river -- the rainbow bridge. He walked over it from time to time on his way to and from work, when he wanted to clear his head. It was a high bridge, a beautiful bridge. There were many bright lights, giving it an almost warm and cheerful atmosphere. The water even shone when the moonlight hit it.

 

It would be a beautiful place to die.

 

It wouldn’t be messy like his mother’s death had been. With the height of the bridge, it would probably be over the moment that he hit the water -- after a short and wonderful fall.

 

Over and done with.

 

If he did it late enough at night, then there was even a possibility that no one would even find his body. He didn’t want to put stress on anyone. Not his fucking aunt, nor Hide, or Touka.

 

So, he makes a promise to himself.

 

He would finish folding his thousand cranes.

 

And once he had finished, he’d have no more obligations -- nothing holding him back from doing as he liked.

 

He would kill himself, _then._

 

\--

 

He had tried to end it once, before.

 

He had left his apartment one day -- intending to go to that same bridge about a year ago. Of course, Touka had chosen that same day to come to pop up at his apartment. She had taken up most of his time that day, insisting that he buy her sweets (when was she _not_ doing that?). He hadn’t even remembered his original plan until she had already gone back home and by that point, the pressing desire to kill himself had lessened, at least at that time.

 

She had a way of knowing -- even when he didn’t tell her that something was wrong.

 

Sometimes, his thoughts would wonder and he’d receive a text from her -- or she’d call.

 

It was hard to escape her. No, not hard -- almost damn impossible.

 

Maybe the damn cranes were a physical force connecting them, he figures. He hopes that once had finally created one thousand, then he could make a wish to sever that bond once and for all.

 

\--

 

He texts Rize, telling her to come over -- he could use a good distraction, after all. It would help to ignore Touka’s text messages, which have his fingers itching to respond.

 

\--

 

About a week later, he gets into another fight.

 

He had been doing well at avoiding them -- but some asshole had the nerve to shove past him on the subway, and before he knows it, he’s snapped.

 

He’s fighting about five guys, and while he sends them all packing, he’s still bruised and bloody when he comes home.

 

Of course, this is a day that Touka had decided to drop by.

 

Just his luck.

 

She’s horrified. “What the hell, Kaneki?!”

 

Then, she’s shooing him into his apartment. She finds the spare key that he keeps above the the doorframe on the entrance, since he had always been too lazy to find a better spot for it despite her always telling him that it was dumb as hell to keep it in such an easy to find spot.

 

She walks into his apartment like she owns the place, finding his first aid kit in the bathroom before ordering him to take off his hoodie and shirt. Touka winces when she sees the nasty bruises, especially the large one that practically covered his chest. It was an angry purple -- and there was scrapes on his cheek where his face was already swelling.

 

“What the hell,” she repeats, this time her voice was barely above a whisper.

 

“They look worse,” he offers weakly, which makes Touka throw him a blood chilling glare. Then, she socks his arm.

 

“HEY -- Why are you punching the injured guy!?”

 

Touka purses her lips, and wordlessly begins to take out gauze and antiseptic from the kit before dipping a cotton ball into the clear liquid and then bringing it to the cut underneath his eye. He winces, and the grows tense from the gentle way that she was treating the wound.

 

She’s quite for a moment, until he’s squirming in discomfort. Then, she speaks.

 

"You should take your life more seriously," She says quietly. "I don't want to hear you got killed because you tried to fight a bunch of gangsters." He blinks at her, but that isn’t the end of her little speech, it seemed.

 

"I'm going to be a biology teacher, you know," she continues, "And I can't have some dumbass for a friend! It was even more stupid because you’re so smart. You know everything that there was to know about books. You could probably walk into an entrance exam for any college and pass without even studying, but you insist on acting like a moron to ruin your own life.

  
Ken just shrugs.  
  
He doesn’t really know what to say. She was doing that thing again -- saying things that shook him -- that made him want to peel back his mask. Just her being here made it feel like he was going to crack. His tongue feels too tied to speak, but he tries anyway. "You'll be a great teacher," he says, flicking her nose. She growls and socks his arm again, purposefully where a bruise was. He winces,  "I'm just not into that kind of thing. It's not for me."  
  
"But getting into fights is?"  
  
"You've gotten into some fights too!"

 

"When we were kids!" She was growing more and more annoyed every time she had to have this damn argument. It was the same routine every week it seemed. He would text her, they would end up getting lunch and then eat ice cream on the rainbow bridge where she would try to convince him that ruining his life wasn't something he needed to do.  
  
"Yeah well, I'm doing something important," He says, with a that nauseating sense of self righteousness.  
  
Or maybe it was just a lack of care, like he's given up on everything. It scares her.

  
"Leave it alone, Touka-chan," He says with a sigh, before masterfully changing the subject as he often did. “You’ve been ignoring me too,” she mutters. And just like that, he’s feeling guilty again. He had been ignoring her since their talk at anteiku -- trying to distance himself slowly. She rebuffed all of his efforts at doing so, though. Touka wasn’t the type to let herself be ignored.

 

"How about I buy you that cute bunny cake that you always eye when you walk near the pastry shop near anteiku?”

 

 _Drop it,_  he thinks to himself. _Please. Forget about me, already._  
  
Her eyes narrow, and he could tell that she wanted to fight more. She didn’t want to let this go. Then, her eyes soften and she deflates. Huffing, she says, "It better be the cute one." He supposes that this is her way of a truce, though he knows that the conversation wasn’t done and over with.

 

Ken grins at her, putting on an easy smile. Then, he flicks her forhead, which makes her be extra rough with the alcohol as she cleans the scratches on his chest. Her fingers tickle, and he forces himself to think of _everything_ but how nice that feels.

 

"You know, you don't seem like the type to like cute things," he laughs when she flushes from anger, placing a band-aid on his cheek when she’s finished dressing his injuries. This time, she doesn’t raise to his bait. Instead, he notices the quiet way that she continues to work until everything was taken care of. Like she really cared.

  
Ah.  
  
He really didn't deserve her.  
  
\--  
  
Going back to his apartment alone was always pure misery. It’s dark after his shift at anteiku and his aunt has called his phone no less than five times. To make matters worse, he didn’t even have a girl to warm his bed. If anything, he could always fold more of the cranes. There were at least 900 done now. He was getting closer and closer to his goal, and it had a strangely calming effect on him.

 

Frowning, he wonders if he should've invited Touka over. _Dumbass,_ he thinks gruffly. _She doesn't need to see that side of you_ .  
  
The side that craved satisfaction -- that craved physical closeness -- that raw side. She didn't need to see _any_ of that.  
  
Checking his phone, he smiles when he sees that she's sent him a message. _Did you get home alright?_  
  
_Yeah. Now go to bed,_ he texts back.  
  
_Go to bed before I sneak into you house,_ he thinks.  His phone beeps as another message came in.  
  
_Don't tell me what to do, asshole. You're not my brother,_ and then she sends a picture of her middle finger.

 

She was gonna find someone that deserved her someday. Some guy with a good family life, and folks who love him and would love her too. He would probably have a nice paying job and would take the Kirishima’s kindness and ever presence as relief rather than a hair thin trigger like he did.  
  
Sighing, he puts his phone down and and clasps a hand over his eyes, rubbing at them with a bitter smile.  
  
One of these days for sure, he would end it all. Though, that wouldn’t be today, or this week. He owed Touka a burger trip to big girl and he still had to help her study for her college entrance exams. He had promised her and she had swore him into a promise that he would help her on the essay portion and then they would go to Big Girl at the end of the week.  
  
He thinks fondly of the day they spent together and he entertains the idea that someone like her would want to go on a date with him. He could take her to one of those Rabbit Cafe’s he’s seen in the more popular parts of Shinjuku, the last time they were out window shopping, she had stopped to fawn over the place but given that they didn’t have much time, they couldn’t go.

 

Therein lies another chance, another opportunity. To go somewhere with her, to be with her because ultimately, that was one of the only things that even felt good anymore. His apartment felt like a prison alone, part of the reason he tried taking as many shifts as possible and keeping himself distracted with another person as long as he was in there.

 

He goes back on his thoughts, thinking about the Rabbit Cafe, and getting her the cake she loved at the cake shop by the train station, maybe he would get them matching phone charms, lot’s of couples do that, right? Yes, a pink KachiKachi bunny for her and maybe a red one for him. He would feel embarrassed and annoyed, but very pleased on the inside.

 

Begrudgingly, attaching it to his phone just as she did the same with hers, beaming at him with her sweet smile. He lays in bed, hugging a pillow to his chest, thinking about late night walks together and then staying the night over at his place, where he can finally rest with her, feeling a calm sleep take him, when she was next to him.  
  
The thought was sweet, sweet enough to lull him to sleep.

 

\--

 

He folds more cranes the following day -- 990 cranes. He was unbearably close now. It’s then, that he makes himself stop. It would be better to save the last ten cranes for the best possible moment -- the moment that would be the most beautiful. He could fold the last ten cranes and then walk to the bridge. Still, there were things that he needed to take care of before then.

 

Like Touka.

 

\--

 

The next morning, he wakes with a start. There stood Touka in casual clothes, her long hair pulled into two low ponytails and her overall expression looking displeased. He lets out a groan, glaring at her from over his shoulder.

 

“It’s my day off, woman!” Really, though he had been in the middle of another wet dream about her, embarrassingly enough that it startled him when he woke up to see her _right there._ “Don’t you ever knock?! It’s rude to just walk into a single man’s home!”

 

“I didn’t walk into a single man’s home, I walked into your home! You were supposed to be up and ready thirty minutes ago!” She flailed her arms, brows drawn together to show her displeasure. “We’re supposed to be at the library?! This is the last chance that I get to study for awhile! Did you forget that I’m going to Hokkaido with my parents, tomorrow!?”

 

Another groan escapes his lips, a mutter of something or another that she picks up to be “ _troublesome_ ” or _“god let her find someone else to bother.”_  He glances at the clock and sees that it was nine, far before the hour he wanted to be awake for. Then he turns back to give her an annoyed stare.

 

“I’m going back to sleep--”

 

“Kaneki!” She plops down on his bed, shaking his shoulder, as he shoves her off and brings the blanket over his head in the universal Kaneki signal for _“it’s too early for this shit.”_

 

“You promised!”

 

He turns his head and blanches when he sees the upset look on her face. Even her goddamn ears were drooping. Internally, he groans again. Really, he was the biggest idiot of them all, she really did this every time, waking him up on a day off or a rare weekend in and made him spend the whole day out with her going god knows where.

 

“You should find someone new to hang out with, you know,” he says, brow twitching in agitation, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Damn it, he had gone to bed early too and he was still tired!  
  
She ignores him, perking up when it was obvious that she had him. “Come on! You haven’t eaten yet either, we can grab some breakfast at Anteiku, I can have a slice of cake --”

 

“That’s all you really want, this isn’t even about studying!” He accuses, pointing his finger at her menacingly. “This is all about free food!”

 

She ignores his accurate accusation, “And then we can go to the library and you can give me some pointers about the essay portion and this hard novel we’re reading in my language class and then we can do something you like!”  
  
He plops down in bed again, relishing in her annoyed look. Anteiku didn’t stop serving breakfast all day, it was a secret on the menu that only a couple of regulars knew but the entire staff was privy to the information. So he had another hour or two of shut eye he could get before the banshee wailed again. Touka knew that if he wasn’t going to get up from bed, there was no way she was going to be able to hoist him off, maybe to throw him on the floor but that was much too mean for her and she was feeling quite giving this morning.

 

So she fixes the pillow he had been strangling all night and plops down next to him, placing her rucksack on his desk. “Fine! Sleep, but you better wake up in an hour or else.”

 

“Does Hikari-san and Arata-san know that their daughter goes around threatening tax paying civilians on their day off like some hoodlum?” He reaches over to pinch her nose. “Get a boyfriend or something if you wanna bully someone that bad.”

 

“WHAT?” She yelled incredulously.

 

“I’m serious, get someone other than me and Yoriko. Find yourself a boyfriend or something...”

 

"Boyfriend? Eh?" Touka asks, as though the thought hadn't even crossed her mind. "Who the hell has time for that?!"  
  
He rolls his eyes, "That's why you still have a bitchy attitude," he says, and she throws his pillow at his head as she tugs on his wrist. Annoyed, he tugs her forward, and with his strength, he's able to pull her easily onto him. She sputters as her face collides with his bare chest.

 

“Get off of me!” Her face was red, flushed, flustered and looking cuter than anything he’s ever seen. He wraps his arms around her more tightly, smiling to himself.  
  
“Nah, don’t think I will, got myself a stuffed bunny.” He laughs, placing his cheek on the crown of her head as she squirmed and threatened him.  
  
“Kaneki, I will bite you—“  
  
“That’s kinky, but ‘fraid that won’t deter me, Kirishima!”  
  
“DON’T THINK I’LL FORGET ABOUT THE CAKE!”

 

They had play fought frequently as children -- but the had been years ago. Back when he was still timid. But, Touka had always been a rough and tumble kind of kid. Though, having her in his arms then was completely different from having his arms around her now. She was soft -- and curvy and she smelled quite nice, like flowers and sugar. If she wanted cake, then he wanted all of her.  
  
His belly clenches. Oh no. He didn't think he was going to be able to let go.  
  
She struggles in his arms, trying to elbow his chest. "Let me go, asshole! You owe me cake! _Today!_ "  
  
"So one track minded," he murmurs. "There's other fun things to do besides eat cake, bunny."  
  
He had to stop.  
  
He had to fucking stop _right now_. This is where he should draw the line and remind himself that Touka was off limits. She was a friend, at the same level as Hide and despite what he felt about her or how much he yearned for something else, that was not going to happen.

 

Or at least, he should make every effort possible to make sure he didn’t. She deserved better than that, better than him.

 

She sits up on his bed, fixing her pigtails with a scrunched up nose. “Oh yeah? Like what?”  
  
He thinks of telling her then, right there and asking if she would satisfy his life’s goal and letting him fuck her into the very bed they lay on but he doesn’t do that. Touka was too nice, too sweet for him to do that and he knew that better than anyone.  
  
“Like getting the hell outta my house, go bother Yoriko and her eyebrows boyfriend, bunny.” With that , he turns back around to sleep.  
  
Touka doesn’t let up one bit, situating herself behind him and turning on her side, back to his back as she goes through his phone. “Fine — im gonna play games while you nap but in thirty minutes you better wake up and get me cake—“

 

“I thought you said an hour--”

 

“Thirty minutes!”  
  
He turns around and wraps his arms around her, yawning. “Thirty minutes huh? Guess I’ll hug your bony ass until then.” She elbows him in the stomach, making him wheeze a little and looking quite annoyed but making no move to shrug him off.  
  
His last conscious thought was the sound of pocket farm being downloaded onto his phone.

 

\--

 

When he wakes up later, he finds her asleep beside him. His phone was placed on his desk, by her rucksack and she had shrugged off her sweatshirt, leaving her in a thin v-neck top, shorts and thigh high socks.  
  
The sight nearly makes his heart leap out of his chest. She looks so peaceful, breathing softly and her long lashes brush against her cheeks. Unable to help himself, he reaches out and gently touches her cheeks, and then moves down to her slightly parted lip.  
  
It'd be so easy --  
  
No.  
  
He forces himself out of bed, and instead goes to the bathroom, filling up a glass of water before walking back to her. He dips his fingers in before splashing her face with it. Touka sits up, nearly screaming as she looks around, bleary eyed. He grins and she glares fiercely at him. Her pigtails were crooked now too.  
  
"Y-You asshole!"  
  
"Oh hush," he chuckles, "Get up. You want cake, don't you?" He might as well get this over with. It would be good to do something nice for her. His eyes widen as something that she had said earlier catches his attention “ _I’m going on a trip to Hokkaido!”_ Apparently, she would be going on a trip with her parents tomorrow. The thought had evaded him up until now. For some reason -- it hadn’t even occurred to him.

He had only ten cranes left to fold.

 

And she would be gone -- she wouldn’t be here to distract him -- or to come to his empty apartment and find anything amiss.

 

“How long is your trip?” He asks, trying to sound nonchalant. Giving an annoyed huff, she folds her arms across her chest. “Two weeks. Didn’t I tell you that, already?” He had probably not been paying attention when she mentioned it. Or she might’ve done so in passing. Still -- this was an opportunity.

 

It made his heart yearn a bit but he knew that he would be able to do as he pleased, then -- and she wouldn't get any word about it for awhile.  
  
It would be perfect.

\--

 

She’s still glaring at him when he comes out of the bathroom, fixing his hair in front of a mirror and chuckling when he catches her reflection.  
  
_Fuck,_ was cute.  
  
“Come on,” he drags her up by her wrist and out his door, “We’ll get cake and ramen, or ramen and cake. My treat, just to fatten you up so you can’t fit into your swimsuit.”  
  
She grumbles something that he doesn’t understand. She shrugs on the sweatshirt, that he now realizes was his. He had lost it a few weeks ago, but he should have known that she had it. Touka always stole anything of his that he liked. The realization shouldn’t make his heart race like that, but it did. She had taken something of his and made it her own. Her scent clung to something that once inhabited his body --

 

The thought is too much.

 

He wonders if he could just take her back to his bed and lose himself in her softness and her affection --

But he doesn’t.

 

Instead, he waits for her to slip on her shoes and they walk to the ramen stand that has become a regular spot for the two of them. It was too late for breakfast at Anteiku anyways.

  
She orders a bowl of miso curry ramen with a side order of tempura and he orders a beef bowl with pork ramen and a beer. She steals his bottle for a sip and spits it out, going off on not knowing what it was with grown men and drinking something that tasted so horrible!  
  
“You’re still a kid, Greenhorn,” He guffaws. “Maybe one day you can appreciate its fantastic capabilities too.”  
  
“Doubt it,” She scowls, spooling the noodles in her chopstick and thinking of how she hadn’t even packed her belongings for the trip yet. Did she really have to go? She had so much homework due and entrance exams to prepare for, not to mention, this week of free time could really be her chance to bother and bully him into helping her study and lecturing him to do the same too.  
  
They finish their ramen and he ends up paying the bill, even though he was going to jokingly complain about it later. As they walk to the library, she notices something was -- off  about him. There was something different in his eyes today. He was looking at her like — he was getting an eyeful or something.  
  
She looks down at her clothes, she wasn’t dressed anything special or fancy. His stare wasn’t a leer either, it was that happy melancholy way you look at someone when you miss them. But that made no sense -- she was right there. Was it because of her trip?

 

His stare sets her on edge. Something didn’t _feel_ right.

 

“Here’s the problem with your paper,” he says, looking through one of the essays that needed to be written for the essay portion of one of her practice tests. It was something boring -- a Japanese translation of Charles Dickens, _Great Expectations_. She had been tasked with writing about the changing relationship between Estella and Pip. “Where is your textual evidence? Hell, what is even the point that you’re trying to make?”

 

Touka groans loudly. “This is the first time you’ve actually paid enough attention to my work to help me, and it’s for the most boring book of all time?”

 

He grins, not teasing her this time -- or even trying to argue with her about why this book was God’s gift to man (as he did with most books). He just assisted her. It was strange.

 

Even though she was glad that he was seriously helping her, looking through her other practice tests and giving her pointers about the essay portion of the test, she finds herself distracted. He doesn’t know it though, or perhaps he was too busy going off about books, like the nerd he was.

 

They end up wrapping up the studies, her notebook full of new notes and references she could turn to when she was up all night studying the syllabus. It was late, but neither wanted to eat dinner yet.

 

They make a stop at Anteiku for coffee and Touka’s much whined about cake.

 

She puts her worries off for now, enjoying the small booth they always sit at. Koma comes over with his unfunny jokes and Kaya asks her about school and the like. Then, one of them brings the two of them their order. Touka gets her slice of strawberry shortcake and a caramel cappuccino and Kaneki gets his black coffee and sandwich.

 

There wasn’t much conversation to make at that time, except about her trip.

 

“You need to try out all of the hotsprings,” Ken says, sounding so much more cheerful than he often did. He seemed as though he was in a really good mood -- and while that should’ve made her happy, she couldn’t help but feel a pit in her stomach. It was like something terrible was going to happen, even though she doesn’t understand why that was.

 

“Mama is excited about them,” she finds herself saying, “But Papa and Ayato are more excited to try out the different restaurants,” she says with a grin. “You should’ve come with us -- it’s been forever since any of them last saw you.”

 

 _“Laaaaame,”_ Ken drawls, flicking her nose, this time. She growls, and kicks him underneath the table.

 

“I’m serious,” she insists. “Mama was just asking about you the other day. It’s been like two years since you’ve last come by.”

 

Ken used to come over frequently. He had even developed a great rapport with her father, who shared his love for books. That had all but stopped the moment that he turned eighteen, though -- when he started to go further and further off of the rails. She had only been able to keep up with Ken through sheer determination. It upset her to think about -- but she knows that if she didn’t, it was likely that he would disappear right off the face of the planet.

 

The feeling was getting worse.

 

She recognizes it as dread -- an uneasy feeling that something terrible was yet to come. Should she go on that trip? Should she really go?

 

“Hey,” Touka murmurs, this time reaching across the table and taking Ken’s hand. She squeezes it, which causes his body to tense and then relax. She’s almost sure that he’s about to shake her hand off, but he doesn’t. Instead, his eyes soften, and he changes the position of her hand in his in order to lace their fingers. The gesture strikes her as far more than friendly -- and she flushes.

 

“Hey,” he says, making her cheeks darken even more. The deep drawl in his voice as her belly trembling.

 

“Y-You’re going to text me while I’m away, right? I feel like you’ll forget all about me if I’m not here to bother you.”

 

There’s slight hesitation from him. His jaw clenched, eyes looking unfocused for a moment as he seems to bite the inside of his cheek. If she didn’t know him as well as she did, the moment would’ve been missed -- but just seeing it is enough to make that uneasy feeling increase tenfold. Something was wrong.

 

“Kaneki?”

 

“Of course, I am,” he says, laughing. He’s rubbing his chin with his other hand. “You would blow up my phone if I didn’t.”

 

A lie.

 

She’s not sure why he’s lying -- or how she even knows. But she’s sure of it now.

 

Everything about this felt wrong. It felt as though all hell would break loose if she actually decided to leave. Not just hell from her school end, something felt really off about Kaneki.

 

Touka smiles, pained. “Good!”

 

\--

 

He drops her off at her apartment -- another surprise, though he declines coming in and saying hello to her parents.

 

“They should tell you to stop hanging out with a delinquent like me, anyway.” He had held her hand the entire time that they had walked back from anteiku, and while she found it difficult to concentrate on much anything besides how warm his hand felt, that uneasy feeling hadn’t let up at all. “They’d still like to see you, idiot!” She tries hard to keep her voice from quivering. It was difficult to do much anything besides look down at their linked hands. He hadn’t even let go when it was time for them to leave the cafe.

 

“It’s better that they don’t see me,” he says, chuckling before he releases her hand. She instantly misses the warmth and wants to reach out to him again, but suppresses the urge. “I’ll see you when you get back, bunny,” his voice had an almost solemn quality to it and she doesn’t understand why.

 

He leaves her, then. Waving as he walks away from her, before disappearing into the darkness.

 

For some reason, the sight of his retreating back does nothing to make her feel at ease.

 

\--

 

When Ken returns to his apartment, he breathes a sigh of relief.

 

He had gotten through the entire day -- and in a couple of short hours, Touka would be on a plane to Hokkaido, without a care in the world. If he went ghost, she wouldn’t think too much of it. It wouldn’t be the first time that he would’ve done so. Maybe he could even write her a letter, leaving it in his apartment -- saying that he had up and left, and gone off of the grid. She wouldn’t be able to find him, and she would be none the wiser about his actual fate.

 

Though -- if he did that, the stupid girl would try to track him down, probably. He didn’t want her going on some wild goose chase, either. She didn’t deserve that.

 

Perhaps -- she deserved the truth, then?

 

There’s a deep pain in his chest. It feels hollow -- as though some creature had reached deep inside, and wrapped razor sharp, bony fingers around his heart, squeezing. It was different from the emptiness that he normally felt; no, this was a gnawing pain, one that leaves him reeling. Ken had felt nothing but relief up until this point, but now that the reality of his decision was staring him right in his face, he couldn’t help but feel something that ached -- _stung_ \-- like longing. But -- longing for what? For Touka? Death? Life -- he wasn’t sure.

 

 _Idiot,_ he thinks with a wry smile. _You don’t deserve to live._

 

His decision had been made years before -- when he had first seen his mother swinging from a pipe that ran high along the ceiling. He had to atone for that sin -- for being a selfish burden. Even now, he had purposefully wasted all of his potential, going through the motions even when each day felt more emptier than the last. He didn’t have a right to have second thoughts now.

 

The bridge was waiting, after all.

 

And so, he takes out a pen and paper -- and begins to write.

 

\--

 

He writes into the night -- alternating between staring at the paper and writing what came to mind. When the sun begins to rise, he’s managed to write about two full pages, wondering if that was even close to enough. Touka would have questions, for sure -- but she would move past them with time. Even if he wrote an entire novel for her, he doubted that he would be able to sufficiently describe his feelings in a way that she would understand.

 

Her friends and family would help her. She should’ve let go of him long ago, anyway.

 

_Do you really believe that?_

 

“I do,” he murmurs to himself, folding the letter in half and placing it on the desk in his bedroom.

 

With that task completed, he takes another sheet of plain parchment, folding across, and then in half as his hands meticulously go through the familiar motions.

 

990...991...992…

 

It’s calming, somehow -- knowing that the end was coming -- that soon, he wouldn’t need to wake up anymore. Nor would his aunt wouldn’t be able to call him, begging for money. She wouldn’t be able to call him selfish for ignoring her calls. No one would have to care about him -- or his fucked up future or anything like that. Touka would finally be able to move on with her life.

 

He feels the pain again, right at the center of his chest. He ignores it.

 

995...996...997…

 

The tips of his fingers tremble as he moves to fold the next crane -- two more after this. Two more until he had reached his goal. He was so close now.

 

The closer he gets to it, the last three cranes seem to stall, or at least he stalls in making them.

 

What was it that he really wanted?

 

Was dying going to be the only way? Ken wants to laugh. Really, it would be at the last step of his journey that he would question the decision he had been poised to make for nearly ten years.

 

Maybe that’s what his mother felt. When she’d hung the noose over the pipe and fixed the loop around her neck. Did she question herself too? Asking herself if it was the right decision? Did she really want to die? Or had she changed her mind when the pain became too great.

 

But, he thinks stubbornly, he was not his mother. He would not back away from this.

 

_998…. 999…..—_

 

The worn knob of his door rattles, it draws his whole attention away. He’s sure it’s the landlady, probably to ask him about the weather or give him extra booze from her part time job at a bar — but it’s not.

 

It’s only after several deep breaths he realizes that it was _her._ She was really standing there, her rucksack in her hands and her eyes wide with wonder.

  
It takes a moment for him to find his voice. When he’s sure that it would be more steady, he voices his concern.

The 1000th crane sits on top of the _wood, mocking him._ "What are you doing here?" He asks softly. "Your trip --"  
  
"Cancelled it," Touka says with a shrug, before blinking at him. She shuts the door, throws her rucksack away on his couch before approaching him.

 

Her was dressed up like he was going somewhere. But instead, he’s sitting at his dining table, folding...cranes? Curious, she approaches him. His entire body is rigid, like he had been caught red handed doing something terrible. She hadn’t known that he even still did this. It felt like a lifetime ago that Touka had first begun folding paper cranes as a way to help her mother recover from her sickness. She hadn’t thought about it at all since she had gotten better.

 

“Kaneki?” She asks softly, worried. He was staring down at the desk, and his hands were _trembling_ \-- he looked as though he were about to cry, though she didn’t understand why. “What’s wrong?” She’s unsure as she reaches out, gently grasping his shoulder and giving it a squeeze. The muscle is filled with tension, but almost instantly, it vanishes the moment that she touches him, as though it hadn’t existed in the first place.

 

Then, he smiles.

 

“Nothing,” he laughs, rubbing his chin. “This is just a hobby -- you showed me about it when we were kids, remember?”

 

A little.

 

“I didn’t know that you still folded them,” she murmurs, looking at the ten cranes that were folded on the table. They were done meticulously, as though he had spent a lot of time perfecting his technique. He stands up, dusting off his pants and releasing another soft laugh, as though he wasn’t believing what was happening. “You really cancelled your trip, huh?”

 

“Why?”

 

Touka blinks, though she had expected that question -- she hadn’t expected him to sound so solemn. He didn’t tease her -- nor did he try to anger her enough into storming out as he usually did. “You -- didn’t seem like yourself,” she admits. He seemed to be avoiding her eyes, looking everywhere but at her. His eyes were trained firmly at the wall.

 

He releases another derisive laugh, before running one of his hands through his hair. He shakes his head. “You’re really something else,” he whispers.

 

“What?”

 

“It’s nothing.”

 

Having a feeling that Ken wouldn’t say anything else, she decides to change the subject. "Were you going somewhere?" She feels stupid asking, but it was something she wanted to know. The culmination of all the bad feelings brewing inside of her.

 

He smiles, it looks like the kind of smiles he gave to her and everyone when they were kids. He was hiding.  
  
“Just in town, figured I grab a babe or two to bring back home with me.”  
  
His joke falls flat when he looks as unconvinced as she does. It’s kind of sad that she was having to ask him what he really meant when for years, she always knew. It’s for the first time in their friendship, she’s left speechless. Their time together, punctuated with pauses and silence.

 

Something still felt so wrong. He looks like he’s hiding from her. She doesn’t know what’s worse. That he was hiding from her or that she finally figured out that he was hiding from her.

 

“I think we need to talk,” she looks at him softly, looking down at her hands.

 

"Later," he says with a sigh and shoves his hands into his pockets. They were still shaking. He laughs softly. "You really have a way of throwing a wrench into my plans, you know?" He sounds, somber. It's the most melancholy she's seen him since they were children and he was living with his mother, and then later his aunt.  
  
"What were your plans?" Touka asks, brows furling. She looks back at the table of cranes, a foggy memory from a lifetime ago, comes back to her.

 

Two children playing at the park. _1000 cranes and your wish will be granted._

  
He just chuckles. "Doesn't matter right now. Hey -- you want to go out? Let's go to the arcade!" He says, grabbing her hand and pulling her out of the door with him. "K-Kaneki!"  
  
He doesn't say anything the walk or the train ride there. There was one thing she did notice about him though, the way that his eyes seem to avoid her, the way he seemed to change the subject when it got back to him and what he was supposed to do that day. The reason she didn’t go on the trip when they both knew her family had been planning it for months in advance now.

 

He seemed to want to lose himself in her. In doing things with her and just being around her generally, and while she would have appreciated the thought and the gesture, the attention being just what she wanted after a lifetime of reaching out to him first.

 

But it only worries her. It worries her irrationally, to a point where she cuts their outing short and quietly asks if they can go back to his apartment.  

It’s only been a few hours but it felt as if it had been years, the mood slowing down as they take another quiet train home.  
  
“Wanna help me make dinner?” She looks up to see him glance at her for a moment, shoving his sneakers on top of a rack before he entered inside. Dinner…  
  
Yeah, that’s what would help. Just being around him right now felt like a ticking time bomb. Or perhaps a blowfish, she was so close to erupting, but from what? What was it that her body recognized but her mind won’t?

 

“Yeah,” She places her shoes by his, walking in behind him. “Can I help?”

 

He chuckles, “Of course, I don’t feed freeloaders.”

 

Another joke that falls flat. He always fed her even though she never paid him back, and despite all the complaints he’s made over the years, he’s never forced her to pay him back. It’s always been a bit unsaid between them, hasn’t it?

 

They work together quietly, shoulder to shoulder in his small kitchen. For being a single man’s house, he was really meticulous and tidy. She smiles, wondering if that was a part of himself he wasn’t able to lose over the years, no matter how different he became. The spices and condiments were all in neat, labeled jars. He kept his food in one side of the fridge, snacks and leftovers on the other side.

 

She stirs the curry, making sure to taste it for salt. He in turn brings his attention back to the rice and the vegetable dish she insisted on.

 

“I’m staying over tonight,” She says, like she always did. He would laugh if it didn’t make him seize up inside. Why was she doing this? He won’t tell her not to, god knew he needed this, maybe even more than she did.

 

\--

 

She goes to find something in his room when she sees it. Two sheets of paper, stuck together and folded neatly on his desk. It was sitting there so naturally, she would have ignored it if she were any less intuitive.

 

What was it? She wondered, unfolding the paper hastily and seeing that it was something he had written. Maybe he was starting to write again…? She knows to put it down, but it’s already too late when she spots her name on the upper left hand margin.

  
Her eyes scan the paper too fast, there are parts she’s missed after her name, but right now, her priority was getting to the end of the letter.

_Touka,_

  
_I’m sorry. I don’t know how long after all of this you found out, but please don’t hate me. I struggled with these feelings for a long time, I think even before you came into my life. I was thankful, that I had people like you and Hide and the others at Anteiku for being with me. But — there’s an emptiness inside of me that I couldn’t control. Every day, I’d walk across the bridge, thinking today’s the day only for you to make plans or call me or ask to meet up. And it worked for a while so I had to wait until you were away to finally do what I wanted —_

_\--- like my mother before me, I’m also just the same, selfish because I want someone to love me. Someone to choose me first and be with me forever, but that’s a little silly right? No one could ever be someone’s forever --_

 

_I’m sorry you had to find out this way._

 

_I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry_

 

_Please forgive me. I don’t think I’ve ever been as strong as I’ve been when I was around you --_

 

She stops reading.

  
She couldn’t, not anymore. Silent tears roll down her face, the paper crumpling in her fingers. He’s planned this - he had all of this planned and he wasn’t hoping she would be too far away to stop him.

He’s just about to go find her when he’s become tired of yelling at her about dinner. Right before him, she stands holding up the letter, face chapped with tears. She’s panting. It doesn't take much guesswork to realize that she must have read through his letter.  
  
He hadn’t left it at his desk, had he?

 

“When were you going to tell me?” She asks after a long moment, placing the letters back on the table, next to their dinner. “What were you hoping for?” She murmurs, “That I was just going to carry on -- and forget about you?”  
  
He didn't want to talk about this now.  
  
"Touka --"  
  
She launches herself at him, barrelling against his bare chest and arms coming to rest around his shoulders. He stumbles, startled before he manages to balances himself and stares down at her in wide eyed bewilderment.  
  
Weakly, Touka raises her hand bangs it against his chest. The action is far too light to even cause pain. "Idiot," she sobs. "Y-You're so stupid --"  
  
"I know," he murmurs. Hesitantly, he returns the hug. She is nice and warm, even though his chest is growing wetter from her tears.  
  
"I -- I would've been devastated --"  
  
He swallows, anxious before forcing a smile. "Hey,  it would be fine --" he insists. "You have Yoriko and eventually you'd find other friends -- and a nice boyfriend to finally pop your-- Ow!"  
  
She punches his chest -- that one hurt.  
  
"Do you really believe that?" Touka demands. She hits his chest again. "You really believe that if you died I would just move on and find other friends? Just like that?!"  
  
His expression is unreadable.  
  
Touka has to breath in order to calm herself.  
  
"Stupid," she whispers, she wants to slap his face -- to show him how utterly ridiculous he’s been for all of this time, though, somehow she feels as though that wouldn’t help at all. What could she do? What could she do to show him how much he meant to her? How much she would miss him if he was gone?

 

Touka feels a lump in her throat, and she swallows anxious before reaching up to cup both of his cheeks. _"No one_ could replace you!'

 

She can’t say that — it was already too much for him. To think that she cared so much --

 

“You would forget about me,” he counters, voice barely audible.

 

“I wouldn’t.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Y-You should know why!” She says, flushing a deep color as his hands come to rest of her wrists. She can feel her heart beating -- it’s rushing hard, pulsing in her chest to the point that she wonders if he can hear it. “You mean your crush on me?” He asks, bluntly.

 

She reddens even deeper, balling her hands into fists. “Wait -- you _knew?”_ Why had he never said anything?! Then again, it already felt as though she were going to jump out of her skin just from this much. His lips quirk upwards into what seemed to be a small smile. It doesn’t seem teasing, though. He was just -- looking at her.

 

“Yeah, I did,” Ken murmurs. “I thought it was best to not say anything, though…”

 

It wasn’t like he had planned to live long enough to benefit from those budding feelings at all, after all.

 

Inhaling, Touka breaths, trying to gather her courage. He needed to know -- especially now at this point. Especially after she had read that letter. She had no idea what to do _besides_ this. There wasn’t even a guarantee that this would work, but she had to try.

 

“It’s -- not a crush.”

 

“...?”

 

Out of frustration, she pinches his cheeks, making him wince before she slaps her hands against them, not enough to hurt him, but just enough to make them sting. His eyes widen, and he stares at her. “I -- I -- love you! T-That’s why!” She was terrible at this kind of thing. Even now, it feels as though the words are impossible to get out. She stutters, and averts her eyes, and is about to drop her hands.

 

\-- Only for him to grab her wrists, holding them in place.

 

When she looks up -- she doesn’t expect to see his eyes, watery, filled with tears that seemed as though they would spill at any moment.

 

“Kaneki?” She questions, worried now.

 

She doesn’t expect him to grab her wrists, bringing the palm of her hand to his lips as his lips brush against her skin in a feather-light kiss.

 

Her breath hitches.

  
Wordlessly, Ken leans into her touch, lips going over her palms and her fingers until they were both far too gone to stop now.  
  
When he kisses her, neither have the resolve to go back. She return the kiss, just as hungrily, lips moving clumsily against his own. She gasps, startled when his large hands wrap around her waist, enveloping her easily before he hoists her up. Touka doesn’t think to stop him -- she doesn’t think that she _can_ stop now. He was strong now, carrying her as though she weighs nothing. He brings her into his room and lies her down on his bed, and no more words need to be said.

 

Touka already knows.

  
He looks at her intensely, like he’s memorizing her and she finds it that she doesn’t want him to look at her in any other way besides that.

 

It makes her shiver.  
  
It takes a moment for her to understand what was happening. Ken was -- kissing her -- and she was kissing him back just as intensely. It almost felt like a dream, and it was surreal considering what had just occurred. She had just learned that he had wanted to kill himself, and now they were making out on his bed? She should stop this, right? They should talk more --  
  
Panting, she pushes him away, flushed and struggling for air. "W-Wait," she tries, "Y-You're going to distract me!"  
  
His lips twitch into that frustrating smile that drove her absolutely insane. As though he were teasing her -- like she was just some immature girl. Like he hadn't just laid a bombshell in her hands. "Am I?" He murmurs, brushing lis lips with her again. He sighs then, hands caressing her cheeks gently as he leans his forehead against hers.  
  
Her breath is warm on his lips, cheeks dyed a pleasant shade of pink.  
  
Was this what he had been missing all of this time?  
  
"Yes!" She growls, only to be quieted by his mouth, once more. "Maybe you should let yourself be distracted, then," he purrs. "I want to know what you taste like," he says boldly, and he nearly cackles at the blush that seems to overtake her entire expression.

 

She’s so cute. He couldn’t believe that she would want to be with him too, a part of him fears that it really is all from pity.  
  
But that would be a worry for later.  
  
She’s sitting on his lap, his hands peeling down her shirt and revealing precious skin for his eyes. He leans in to kiss her neck and roll his tongue over the tendons of her neck. It gleams with softness as he bites slowly over the bruise, suckling on it until it turned purple.  
  
He does that over and over again until she’s pulling him up for another kiss.  
  
Like that, she’s under him again, feeling his tent press between her thighs. It makes her hungry for something.

 

She feels -- confused.  
  
She had never felt like this before -- even at her most aroused, alone and in her room. Feeling him against her was doing things to her -- things that made her body cry out with hot need. Smiling, he rolls his hips, letting his tent slide over her covered sex. Touka whimpers, gasping from the burst of euphoria that seems to explode underneath her skin from that simple action.  
  
She feels him smile.  
  
"Sensitive?" He murmurs as he reaches underneath her shirt to cup her breasts. Her breath hitches as he squeezes them before pushing her shirt up. "Who would have known~"  
  
"Shut up!" And she whimpers as he tweaks her nipples over her bra. It sends a jolt of longing right to her groin and her hips grind forward, right against his tent. "It's a good thing," he reassures.

 

The feeling was just far too great to ignore, her whole body, racked with shivers from the pleasure. Her skin pricking with goosebumps as he touches her so gently, in such a new way that she didn’t know what to do with her herself. Of course he found this all cute, smiling at her with that idiotic fond look of his.  
  
It is in that moment that Touka realizes she wants more. She wants to give him more, to prove to him that this was more than what he had thought and much more than how he understood it.  
  
She wants to be with him, for as long as time would permit it and she wanted him to be with her, for just as long. These feelings were hardly something someone could explain with words alone. So she sits up, guiding his hand behind her, to her back and onto the clip of her bra that stayed stationary.

 

He sobers up a little more than, looking at her for reassurance that she eagerly returns. The lacy garment falls in her arms and he brings her into him for another kiss, gently coaxing her tongue into his mouth and as they fall together, all that’s left are these feelings.

 

She’s beautiful. Far more than he could have even imagined.

 

Her thighs part shyly as he pinches the waistband of her panties in a teasing way. His lips tilting into a sly smile.

 

“You’re really gonna let me do this, Touka-chan?” He pinches her cheek. “Who would have know that you were into this? All before marriage too…”  
  
“Shut up!” He just had to open his stupid mouth, didn’t he?!

 

His eyes crinkle from mirth. “I’m just joking, you know.” He leans in to kiss her on her forehead, “I want to be Touka-chan’s first time.”

 

She pouts, looking away. “Yeah, well you didn’t wait for that for yourself, did you…”

 

His smile droops a little before it returns in full brilliance. “Yeah, that’s because I wanted to learn a thing or two before I popped your cherry.”

 

“K-Kaneki!”

 

He snickers, pinchin the panties down even as she gasps and tries to cover herself. “Hey, relax. I won’t do anything you won’t like.”

 

She resists only until he begins to kiss her thighs and ease her into the soft feeling. It’s too much and he’s only just begun.  
  
“Relax,” He whispers, murmuring darkly into her skin. “This is going to feel good.” The underwear dangle from her ankle and she watches it only to ground herself and her nerves a little. He was kissing a trail far up to the folds between her legs and no amount of squealing was deterring him.

“Lemme see,” He murmurs, licking his lips as his hands curl over her knees and parts them. She covers her face with her hands, letting out a rough grunt as she finally allows him to brandish her to his hungry gaze.

 

She has on a cute pair of pink panties, and he’s pleased to find her so wet. The crotch of her underwear is damp to the point that he could see the clear outline of her labia and vulva through the thin fabric. Touka tries to pull down her skirt, but he holds it up before grabbing the backs of her thighs and spreading her even wider for him.

 

“Kaneki!”

 

God, he could get used to the way that she said his name.

 

There had been others, of course. Rize and Hairu were his most frequent contacts, but neither of them had ever been shy. Rize in particular had always shown him exactly what she liked -- where she wanted to be touched, and how rough or gentle he should be. Hairu had always revealed herself to him eagerly, and she fucked with an exuberance and almost playful joy.

 

Touka was -- different.

 

She was shyer -- her skin flushed a deep pink, one that seemed to permeate along the skin along her entire body. It was a such a beautiful shade. “Hey,” Ken murmurs, reaching up and using his forefinger and thumb to grab her chin. He moves her eyes back to his, “Don’t tell me you’re getting shy now.”

 

“I’m not shy,” she mutters, her flush deepening even more as she lifts her hips before hooking her fingers underneath the band of her panties and slowly sliding them down her thighs and off of her legs. He watches the action, enraptured as her pale, flushed skin is slowly revealed. “N-Not everyone needs to just bare it all so fast,” she states.

 

He chuckles -- trying to deny things, even now.

 

“No, it doesn’t need to be,” he admits. “It can be nice and slow, too,” he informs her, grin widening at her look of confusion. He spreads her legs again, this time, taking his time to admire the swollen, slick flesh that had been revealed. For years now, he had restrained himself. He had wrestled with the knowledge that she cared for him, though he had never imagined how much she did. It would’ve been easy back then to lose himself in her body -- to take what he wanted, what she would have naively given.

 

No -- he wanted this to mean something. To mean more than any of his other sexual encounters _ever_ had.

 

He would take his time with her.

 

It was the least that he could do for her, after all -- now that his heart felt so swollen, heavy with an emotion that was hard to describe. Normally he felt so empty -- and that feeling wasn’t entirely gone, but there was something else occupying the ragged hole where his heart had been now. Something that made him feel almost giddy and light.

 

Maybe it was hope.

 

“Watch me,” he orders, and even with her embarrassment, she’s unable to turn away from him as he slowly bends down, spreading her legs nice and wide before lowering his mouth to her cunt.

 

Stiffening his tongue, he traces it along her folds before playfully using it to write out the long stroke of different characters along her slit. “W-What are you doing?!” She gasps, hips jerking from the contact. Her eyes squeeze shut, lips parting in awe at the sensation. His tongue was so _wet_ , but it was also warm. It felt almost like that part of her was being tickled -- unbearable, but so good that she’s powerless against the assault of pure _excitement_ building inside of her.

 

“I’m writing something,” he murmurs, shuddering from the sweet taste of her on his tongue. Was this what he had restrained himself from for so long? He really was a fool.

 

Had he given into his plans this could have never happen. He tries not to think about that now, not when she was so sweet, writhing underneath him and waiting to see what he did to her next.  
  
Touka can’t focus on anything he’s saying at the moment. He was writing something? What could she possibly care about that he was writing --  
  
Until it dawns on her. The exact strokes, every character she knew by heart -- his name.

 

It’s a sobering feeling. To think that this very moment the two of them were alive for this. She finds her fingers grasping around, twisting into his sheets and then lifting up to locate themselves in the wild locks of his hair. Her thighs budging together as he closes his whole mouth around her cunt and _sucks._

 

In fact, that’s all it really takes to push her completely to the edge. Ken finds himself awed at the sheer seconds it took to bring her to his mercy. She overflows her sweet juices all over his tongue, mouth and chin. She’s made quite the mess -- but she was plenty ready for what he wanted next.

 

It had been far, far too long for him. Yearning for her for as long as he did. He quickly lets her free with a pop of his mouth, he can see the skin of folds quiver as he releases them. Her belly rising and falling with her fast breaths. He gently strokes the skin and allows her a moment of calm even though at this point, he might as well have jumped right in.

 

Touka’s eager for it to go onto the next. She’s much more brash and more at ease with her own nudity. He can see it in the way she pushes him onto his back and climbs over his body like a prideful cat. He reaches out and pulls the skirt down her legs in a quick move. Her hands grasp the front of his pants, curiously touching him until she finds the hard length and begins to prod at it less gently.

 

“C-Careful,” He growls. That makes her smirk. She closes her palm over the length, rubbing it even more quicker, finding his lack of control quite cute. It’s been years since he’s been this cute.

 

“Why?” She asks innocently. “Does it hurt?”

 

 _Hurt?_ He chuckles, grabbing her hand.  
  
“No. I just wanna take it easy, it’s your first time after all --”  
  
“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

 

He groans, “We’re not going to start another argument on that.” He crawls out of the bed to take off his jeans and the remaining clothes before joining her. She looks curiously at the bobbing, angry length. It was intimidating, that was for sure. But there seemed to be a challenging element to it, something that called to the overachiever side of her.  
  
She crawls over to the edge of the bed, perfect distance to reach out for his cock and slowly stroke it in her hands. She watched him curiously, all the while, wondering if he would be okay with her taking him into her mouth.

 

She decides to try it. He nearly jumps out of his skin, as he watches her try and fit him further inside before his interference.

 

“S-Stop, there’s time for that later --”

“I thought you wanted to take it slow,” She reminds him. “I wanna do this for you too, like you did for me.”

 

He grumbles something, but she’s far too focused for any of that to make it into her plane of attention. She was going to fit the whole thing in her mouth, damn it, she was no quitter!

 

Ken’s voice is low as he speaks, “You don’t need to shove the entire thing in,” he says, amused by her exuberance. She seemed determined, even though it was unlikely that she was succeed. Still, it was quite the sight to watch her try. Her eyes narrow as she opens her mouth, slowly dragging her tongue along the bulbous glans of his cock. His eyelashes lower, and reaches up to run his fingers through her hair. “You really -- _aah_ \--,” he’s caught by surprise when she hollows her cheeks around the head of his cock. It takes every ounce of strength not to jerk his hips or force her head down.

 

She releases him with a wet _pop_ , looking at him curiously.

 

“What?”

 

He huffs, inhaling through his nose as he cups her cheek. His thumb swipes over the skin -- it was soft and warm to the touch, as though her body were giving off heat. “You really only need to focus on the head,” he murmurs. “That’s where it’s most sensitive.”

 

Only the head.

 

Keeping his advice in mind, she grabs the base of his cock, gently stroking the length of him before taking the head of his cock back into her mouth. It’s a slightly salty taste that greets her, one that she is surprised to find herself enjoying so much. So this was what Kaneki tasted like. It was a heady flavor -- one that had her throbbing even worse at her core.

 

Still -- she’s left the wonder how the other women who he had been with sucked him off. Had they also only focused on just the head? Had they been intimidated by his size? The very idea makes her feel possessive. She didn’t like the idea of that -- of any of those women making Ken feel better than she was right now.

 

Taking a deep breath in through her nose, she slowly begins to bob her head down, taking more and more of him into her mouth. Only a few inches has her eyes watering, but she wasn’t ready to stop -- or to give this up.

 

“Touka-chan --,” Ken rasps, breath hitching at the tightness of her throat. “You don’t need to do that --” he tries to say, but he’s sure the only a garbled moan falls from his lips as her head slowly begins to bob up and down. It’s a torturous motion -- one that has his toes curling from the teasing nature of it. It took almost every ounce of strength within him not to grab hold of her head and thrust up into her mouth without a care for her wellbeing at all. Her mouth is so hot and wet, her saliva slicking him and making it all the more easier for her to move.

 

She caught on fast.

 

“Touka--,” He’s gasping now -- “You -- You have to stop --”

 

She’s not listening, of course. Touka was stubborn -- it was rare that her mind could be changed once it was set. And right now, it was set on absolutely ruining him. His toes curl, eyes practically glazing as his hands find purchase in the silken locks of her hair. “Is that good?” She asks when she removes him from her mouth. It’s a lewd sight when she does -- long threads of slickness still connecting her mouth to his cock.

 

A part of him still can’t believe that he’s seeing her like this.

 

“Is it --,” she pauses. “Is it better than the other girls that you’ve been with?”

 

His eyes widen.

 

Oh.

 

So _that_ was what this was about.

 

He can’t stop himself from laughing, making her flush from indignation as she punches his arm. “It’s not funny! What are you laughing at me, you asshole!?”

 

God, she was adorable -- and she wasn’t even trying to be.

 

Ken grins, before grabbing hold of her cheeks and pulling into a bruising kiss. He bites down on her bottom lip, smiling as he feels her lips part in surprise as his tongue goes to lap at the seams of her mouth. When he pulls away from her, he rests his forehead against hers.

 

“You’re a damn idiot,” he whispers. She’s about to complain -- tug away from him, until he whispers, “It’s already better just because it’s _you_ , idiot.”

 

No more words are said after that.

 

She looks stunned -- and then she smiles, dimples in her cheeks showing and eyes practically shining. Beautiful. More beautiful than anything he had ever seen. “Y-Yeah?”

 

“Yeah,” he affirms, tugging her towards him as he slowly lays her down onto the pillows of his bed.

 

She looks nervous again and this time, he doesn’t tease her. His attention is on her and on the way her flush seems to permeate all areas of her skin, the way she lets out a puff of air as he settles between her legs and curiously, glances down to see what he was about to do.

 

“Ready?”

 

As she’ll ever be, she gives him a nod, clenching her hands into fists as he slowly moves forward, allowing the blunt head to press inside. It disappears inside and she lets out a pained grunt as he continues to push himself, deeper and deeper until he could go no more.

 

Quietly, he presses his palms into the bed, on the side of her head, caging her beneath him.

 

She looks up, eyes watering.

 

“Are you okay?” For a moment, he’s panicking, unsure of what he was supposed to do. Neither Hairu nor Rize had been virgins, and while they both had individual tastes, he’s never been this gentle with them.

 

“M-Move, dumbass!” His brow twitches, wow, she really wanted to be like this, at this moment?

 

He pulls out, slamming back in so her hips buckle into his. She punches his chest but seems to like it way too much to keep up the act. He does it again, albeit less hard and more fluid in motion that it starts making her moan. She wraps her arms around his shoulder, her legs coming tighter over his hips and locking at the ankles.

 

He gasps against her open mouth, feeling the tight, hot squeeze of her velvety walls constricting him.

 

Her walls are so hot -- so tight -- and the heated throb of her walls makes him lose all sense of himself as he moves.

 

Ken’s hands smooth down along her thighs, pushing them back against her chest to allow him better access to move. She hisses, worrying her lip with her teeth as he moves. The motion is almost mystifying -- his hips grind, thrusting in and out of her with another force that causes his pelvis to buckle against hers with a wet, loud slap.

 

She’s flustered by the lewd sound, but only for a moment, until his lips find hers, distracing with her another kiss.

 

The pressure was really overtaking the both of them, far too quickly than either could have anticipated. He presses his forehead to her damp one and slows down just enough to wedge a hand between their joined sex. Then carefully, he works her clit, as the pace of his thrusts pick up again and this time, when they both tip over the edge, it’s together.

 

Her nails rake down his back in red welts. His hips bury in jerky, less rhythmic thrusts than he can muster and it’s all a sheet of white for the two of them as they lose themselves to the release and stay joined even minutes after.

 

He sighs into her breasts, laying his head comfortably in the plush flesh.

 

When was the last time he felt this light hearted?

 

 _Never,_ comes his inner voice. _You’ve never been light hearted._ And that was true -- even as a child, he had always been worried about pleasing his mother -- about staying out of trouble. Later, he had wanted to follow in his mother’s footsteps. In some ways, he still wanted to, but Touka’s presence somehow made that hollow emptiness a bit more bearable.

 

For some reason, his eyes catch sight of the ten paper cranes sitting on his desk. One thousand. He had reached a thousand -- and now he was supposed to make a wish, wasn’t he? Before, it had been to die.

 

He isn’t sure what his wish is now.

 

“Stay here,” Ken murmurs.

 

Touka  hums. “Of course I will, I can’t trust you to be by yourself.”

 

He raises his head. “No, I mean stay here, with me, until your parents come back.” When she looks at him, her eyes are filled with brightness. Really -- it was as though she were made of stardust -- something bright and fleeting that seemed impossible and wrong for him to hold onto. Though, he still couldn’t help but try.

 

“You know that I will. Idiot.”

\--

 

Neither of them bring up the letter again.

 

In some ways -- things are not all that different from him. There are still times when his own darkness threatens to swallow him whole. There are times when the emptiness is unbearable, and he considers going to that bridge to grant that old, dark wish. Though, being with Touka somehow made it a little easier. That desire isn’t gone -- far from it, but he finds himself less willing to give into it.

 

“What was your wish?” Touka asks one day as she leans her head against his shoulder. Her hair tickles the bare skin on his arm.

 

“What?”

 

“With the cranes? What did you want to wish for?”

 

Ken pauses, slowly considering his answer. His wish -- it had been to die, but was that really it? Dying was just a way for him to stop that hollow pain.

 

She’s watching him, curious -- and then, is when the answer strikes him.

 

“I wished not to be alone,” he says, stunned.

 

In some cases -- perhaps it was true that wishes _did_ come true.

 

\---

**The end**

\---


End file.
